The Cake Slayer

I was inspired to write this when I heard "the war on obesity" on a news outlet, and took it literally.

"...And these are the cutting knives, but be careful--they are capable of reducing cakes to dozens of pieces within seconds." I said to my apprentice, Jackson Matthews.. He seemed to be picking up this business quite quickly, especially for being an outsider on the subject. What business? They asked on the first day. Oh, there is so much to learn in the art of Cake slaying. Like, what are the different types of cakes? (Just one), How can a cake be eliminated? (Cut up, not eaten--if eaten, they will reproduce inside your body like a parasite.). I showed Jackson around more, throughout the lab where I was studying the composition of the cake and what had made this one different. Just one chocolate cake, and now every cake in the world had risen up, like the gingerbread man, but worse. Much worse.

"Do you think you are ready to go out into the field for your first mission with me?" I asked. "I think so...but what happens if we get split up? What will I do?" Jackson looked worried. "I won't let that happen. Besides, I’m sure you would be fine." Jackson put on a facade of confidence. "We leave tonight at nightfall. Don't be late." I said to him as we left the lab to go off into our own private quarters.

My estate was quite spacious. There is a large lawn in front with a statue of Van Helsing slaying Dracula, a little something I thought was rather appropriate, considering my mission. Inside the house, there isn't much--just two bedrooms, a living room with one of those bookcases that you can pull out a book and it leads to a secret passageway to my lab. Nothing special. I almost never even close it, considering how few guests i have.

Once dusk had fallen, Jackson and I were already in the ghetto, roaming the streets.

"Shh...Did you hear that? Listen closely..." I whispered. A garbage can was shaking in a nearby alleyway. "Watch me." I said, creeping closely and in the shadows. My hand was tihgtly grasping the handle of my knife. I picked up a rock, and tossed it at the can, startling whatever was inside it so that it stopped moving. A started tasting something sweet in my mouth-- cake pheromones. It was trying to trick me into eating it. I had to resist, and threw another rock at the can. This time, the cake flew out, into the air. I made my leap--And sliced right through the middle. Each part fell to the side, and flopped around a little before dying.

"Whoa..." Jackson said, in awe.

We continued walking down the street, when suddenly we heard cries of pain coming from inside an abandoned building. The moon eerily lit up part of the quarantine symbol on the door. We wandered inside, unable to see much because the windows had been boarded up. I took out my broadest blade, and reflected the light around the room. It was clean, no cakes here. Another loud cry of pain, coming directly above us. I smelled something sweet again, but this time it was tainted with blood.

"Hey, over here! I couldn't find any stairs, but there is this elevator shaft." Jackson said to me.

We climbed up it, using the ropes and the walls. The next floor was not but 10 feet above us. A passing car's headlights illuminated the room for just a second, but long enough to see what was going on. A man was lying on his back, and there was something coming out of his abdomen. It was surely a cake. It didn't look like the man had seen us.

"We have to save this man..." I said. "How? I thought you said once the cake had infected someone, there was no way back?" Jackson said. He had been taught well. "Yes, I guess you are right. But we can prevent this cake from infecting anyone else."

In the darkness we walked over. In order to kill the cake, you must also ruin the host body. While they (cakes always are twins) are coming out, they make one last drain of all the body's resources--sugar, salt, baking soda, whatever. The only way to do stop this is to stick a special straw into the body that sucks everything a cake might need out. The process is incredibly painful.

"Now insert the straw right above the cake..." I carefully instructed Jackson, handing him the straw. He did, and stepped back, and we watched as the man's body started turning whiter and whiter. One of the cakes, realizing what we were doing, made a break for it. But it was too malnourished, and ended up just oozing a few feet, as it was still just batter. But the other one stayed in, for some reason. "That's good..." I said, and motioned for Jackson to take out the straw. Just as he had removed it, the other cake jumped up and attacked him. With a knee-jerk reaction, he stabbed it with the straw, as it felt like a knife in his hand. Upon impact, the cake sucked back all the nutrients of the straw.

Jackson screamed and let go of the straw. He looked in horror as the cake grew larger and larger. It spat out the straw on the ground. A lightning bolt struck, lighting up the room for an instant, showing us the true size of the cake--almost 4 feet tall. Rain started pouring. I grabbed my cutlery, and pushed Jackson aside. I tackled the cake to the ground, and started dicing it to pieces. Lightning struck the ceiling of our building, and part of it fell onto me. I howled in pain, and the cake took its opportunity, and just a sliver of cake jumped into my mouth. It worked its way down my throat, and I attempted to barf several times, unsuccessfully (I had gotten my tonsils removed when I was 7). The rest of the cake had stopped moving, so there was no danger.

"We need to go." I said. Jackson nodded, and we returned to my estate.

That night, when Jackson was fast asleep, I tested myself--I was infected. He could never know. I had maybe a week at best before it tried to make its escape. I now knew that I had to make one last attempt to rid the world of these cakes, and we could go back to the old days. I was unable to sleep that night, so I ended up just turning on the TV. I found some cable news network that had something on about cakes.

"...So Laura, tell us more about the strange behavior you have noticed in the cakes recently." Some news anchor said. "Well, Rob, cakes have been acting strange recently. Even more strange than normal. There are many reports coming in that cakes have stopped being so aggressive towards humans, but they still walk around. Many people have seen large packs of them, running down the interstate." "Are the cakes still dangerous?" "Well, we aren't sure. But all we can tell people is to stay away from them, as they still will probably react unpredictably." "Do the cakes seem to be going anywhere in particular?" "If they are, it isn't any place special. After tracking many herds, we can confirm that it is not any major city. In fact, many of them are wandering out of the big cities, namely Los Angeles, Dallas, and even DC. We have an interactive map of where the biggest herds are, and where they have been on our website."

Why can't they leave this town? I thought to myself.

"Sounds good, Laura. Has the government made any attempts to destroy the cakes?" "As far as we know, they are working on a project to rid the world of cakes. Conventional weaponry has proved to be ineffective-Bullets just pass right through them. The government has confirmed that cakes are unphased to nuclear attack, according to Vallerie Parsons, the head of nuclear and atomic weaponry." "What can people do if they think that they are infected?" "Rob, they can call 1 800 234 CAKE. That's 1 800 234 2253. This is Laura Robinson, on special report." "Thanks Laura...now we turn to Kenny Rutherford for the weather..." Was the last thing I heard before turning off the TV. Could this be true? The end of cakes? Surely not. I had to check it in other places.

I went down to the lab and pulled up a map. Then I went to that website, and looked at every herd's movements the last 4 hours, and then projected where they would go, if they were going anywhere. And there were three locations where the herds were headed. Each was within ten miles of the city. So much for not headed anywhere. I then calculated how soon they would be here, based on the speed they had been moving. They would be here in six days. I had to survive long enough to destroy them.

The next five days were spent tracking the herds and not eating a thing, I had to make sure that the cake got no nutrients. I don't think Jackson noticed. I sent him on a quest to gather as many knives as he could, and alerting the media. We could finish this, once and for all.

On the sixth day, at 6 o clock, it happened. The first herd reached the north side of the city, and I was ready. Most of the town was there with me, armed and ready. Everyone was wearing a protective mask so that they couldn't eat anything. The first herd was the smallest, and I almost didn't have to do anything. But just as we were almost done, we were surrounded by the other two. Cakes were flying through the air, out of buildings and onto us.

"Jackson! Into that building!" I yelled to him, and pointed to a fairly tall building. Once inside, and the door was firmly shut behind him, he began questioning what we were doing, saying that we were cowards and should be the ones fighting. I ignored his comments, and showed him what I had seen out a window--some of the cakes were retreating and turning into one big, delicious monster, growing a story a minute.

"We have to jump on that thing's back and slice it up. Make sure your cuts go all the way through." I instructed him. He looked worried, but ready. We trekked up 15 stories of stairs, and by that time, the monster was already taller than us. A few helicopters were bombarding it with missiles, but every time they hit, more cake grew back in its place. I then got an idea.

A helicopter noticed us, and I motioned for it to come near. It did, and I jumped aboard.

"Tell your friend to come over here!" I yelled over the roar of the blades. He said something into his headset, and the other helicopter flew over. The cake ignored them. "Follow my lead!" I said to the other pilot.

I took the controls as my pilot told me how to fly it. Down is up, up is down, he said. OK then. I aimed at the now-30-story beast in front of me, and went forward as fast as I could. The captain yelled at me, asking if I was crazy, which I ignored. I went right into the beast, cutting it in half with my helicopter blades at what could be called the waist. The top half fell to the ground, and squirmed around, before regenerating back onto the lower half. I took a deep breath and did it again. The pilot, now wanting to do that again, parachuted out. The same thing happened, and I was still unharmed. The same thing could not be said of the captian, who had landed in front of the cake blob's path and was swallowed up.

The other helicopter figured out what I was doing, and started doing it too. I would cut part of it off, and then he would fly underneath it and dice it up. The entire process took almost half an hour, almost consuming my entire tank of gas. But it was worth it, the cake was gone. It could never harm another person again. On the ground, most of the city was covered in cake and pilot. But it was OK, the day was won. I landed the vehicle, and the mayor told me that from now on, I would have my own day, which would be today.

The entire cake fiasco had started two years ago, when I had created the first cake. At first, it was all a joke, innocent. We would prod it, and my sister even dared to eat part of it (which she did). It was terrible. She tossed it in the trash and it rattled the can until I cut it to pieces. A week later, my sister was found in her room with a giant cavity in her abdomen, and a trail of frosting leading to her window, which had a hole in it. After reports of a cake terrorizing the city, I knew that it had to have been this one. Any cake that it touched would turn alive. It was terrible.

I realized what had to be done. I knew how to kill it, just cut it to pieces, like I did to the first one. But no one listened, there were better, safer ways to kill it, they said. Maybe if they had listened to me the first time, none of this would have happened. But oh well.

I told all this to Jackson when we were cleaning out the lab. My lower chest was still warm, and then I remembered--the cake. If they escaped me, then the whole thing would start over again...That couldn't happen. I took a bunch of the straws, and told Jackson to follow me to the statue of Van Helsing killing dracula.

"Jackson, what I’m about to tell you will surprise you. But do not be...alarmed, as I have taught you well." I was beginning to feel the pain. "Yes?..." He replied, looking confused. "I...I need you to kill me. I'm in...infected with the cake, and...Urgh... you are the most qualified person to do it." I was beginning to feel different, changed--stronger. I could feel my muscles growing. My shirt felt tight. "What? When did you get infected? How am I going to kill you?" He said. I started to feel unnaturally frustrated with him. I took my hand, and slammed it against the statue, causing the knife which Van was about to stab Dracula with to fall to the ground at Jackson's feet. "I...brought you these straws...stab me! Now!" I pointed to where the pain was. Jackson looked confused, and uneasy. He warily took them, and stabbed three of them into my abdomen. My muscles were bulging now, probably part of the reason Jackson was so confused.

My growth stopped, momentarily. Down at my chest, the cake was starting to make its escape. This cake was enormous--probably half my size. This was, after all, the cake that had grown to be almost four feet tall, and it was already that size right now. A crack appeared vertically down my chest, and the cake made its escape. I fell over, clinging to consciousness. From my obstructed view, I could see Jackson grab the knife at his feet and fend off the cake.

I tried to cheer him on, but was too weak. The fight almost left my sight of vision. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him chop it into two pieces, then three, then four-! He was winning! Seemingly an eternity later, he ran over to me, and tried to bring me back. I closed my eyes, unable to keep them open any longer. I could still hear his voice, barely, and it sounded like he said: "the cake was shredded, and it was going to be ok, I’m going to call an ambulance..." as I slowly drifted towards the light.

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